


Don't Listen To Them

by swampthot



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Fat Mac, Grinding, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 02:26:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swampthot/pseuds/swampthot
Summary: Set during season 7. Mac is beginning to realize exactly how deluded he's been about his body.





	Don't Listen To Them

Dennis’s words are still ringing in Mac’s ears as he slowly traces over his distended belly with one hand. “You look fat as shit.” It was blunt, it was real, it was snide, it was angry, it was very, very Dennis. Laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, not having the courage to look at the mirror in his own apartment, Mac is beginning to wish he were dead, or at the very least he could escape the body he seems to be trapped in. 

When he’d begun this project, see, gaining mass, he had been excited at the prospect of gaining, like, solid muscle. He’s always been the most proud of his arms, and not the rest of his body, the body he feels even now is too small and twinkish. And he had thought maybe, just maybe if he looked better, if he had a bigger, and more manly body, like his father, maybe everyone would love him more. Maybe Dennis-

Mac’s reverie is interrupted by the door creaking open. Charlie, it seems, is just kind of cool with prancing into other people’s homes without an invitation, just like when he was a kid and he’d invite himself into Mac’s bedroom regardless of what Mac happened to be doing.

“Hey, dude.” Charlie flops on the couch, almost sitting directly on Mac’s feet. “I was just hanging out with Frank and I got bored. What’s up?”

“Do you think I’m fat, Charlie?” The question tears it’s way out of Mac, and right now he sounds scared and a little whiny, but Charlie did kinda invade his space right as he was having (not a breakdown, men don’t have breakdowns) a bad time. So.

“Do I-” Charlie looks confused. “Yeah, Mac, a little more than usual, but who cares?”

“More than usual?” Mac asks, horrified. “So you already thought I was fat?”

“No-” Charlie sighs. “Not what I meant, bro. But seriously, who cares?” Mac stares at him, waiting for something. “Aren’t you, like, super jazzed about gaining mass and putting on muscle and whatever?” There’s definitely a little mocking edge to his tone, but not malicious. Mac doesn’t know what it is.

“I’m not putting on muscle, Charlie.” Mac looks at the ceiling instead of him. “I’m getting fatter. I can’t walk or breathe the way I used to. I’m losing my edge and I’m not in my prime. I’m getting closer to death.”

“Mac, buddy,” Charlie says gently. “Buddy.”

Mac doesn’t answer, because what he just said, he knows, is undoubtedly true. He’s been deluding himself this whole time, in the back of his mind he’s always known that, but it’s coming down crashing on him just how much, and now he feels that he needs to claw right out of his skin, that it’s much too small and tight to contain all of him.

“Why do you always do this, man?”

“Do what?” The question throws Mac entirely for a loop.

Charlie sighs. “Y’know. You just go from one wild thing to the other. Like. First you’re in your sexual prime and then you’re dying, dude.”

“But like.” Mac exhales. “I have diabetes, Charlie. And Dennis says-”

“Oh my fucking god, dude, forget what Dennis says, okay?” Charlie rubs a tired hand over his face. “Dennis is, like, anorexic.”

“Do you even know-”

“What anorexic means?” Charlie turns to him, eyes flashing angrily. “Yeah, Mac. I do. I’m not as stupid as you all think I am, okay? You’re being way stupider than I am right now.”

“Great,” Mac says dully. “So I’m fat and stupid.”

“Look, I didn’t mean that, okay?” And Mac does know that; he knows that because of Charlie’s limited capacities for speech, he has trouble saying exactly what he means. He absolutely knows that. But he just can’t stop thinking that Charlie, just like Dennis, sees him for what he actually is. Even if he’s not entirely sure what that might be.

“Whatever, bro,” Mac says softly. “It’s okay.”

Charlie’s hand is on his leg suddenly, and it feels less like a careless Charlie-being-weird touch and strangely deliberate. “Dude, it’s really not.”

There are tears gathering in Mac’s eyes.

“Mac, I know Dennis says a lot of shit to you. But he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You don’t look terrible.”

“I don’t?” And this is what Charlie hates; every time he validates Mac a little bit, Mac does that thing with the bewildered wonderment in his voice, like by hearing Charlie say that the gang doesn’t hate him or he’s not some kind of pig, everything he thought he knew is getting turned upside down. It knifes Charlie’s heart a little. Mac has a lot of delusions in life, but Charlie knows deep down, he really, truly loathes who he is.

“Mac, dude.” Charlie’s hand is still resting gently on his calf, making his mind buzz a little. “Everyone gains a little weight sometimes.”

“Not like this,” he whispers in revulsion. He knows Charlie’s seen him scared and vulnerable like this before, but every time, it feels weird to let his barrier down. He’s been actively keeping that barrier up for so long. “I’m just- I’m disgusting,” he concludes.

“I know that’s what Dennis said,” Charlie says softly. “And you look up to him like he’s some kinda god sometimes, man, but he’s not always right.”

“If he says that, though, that’s what everyone’s thinking, and if he- Who would ever want me?” Mac’s brain suddenly kind of switches tracks, ‘cause he is terrible at vocalizing his feelings, but Charlie is still looking at him so warmly he feels compelled to let everything out into the open.

“Lots of people would.” Charlie is very matter-of-fact, very nonchalant. “People like, uh, bears all the time, Mac. It’s the dad bod thing.” Mac is pretty sure being a bear is a gay thing, and he’s not gay, so that’s a little confusing, but the rest of it makes sense.

“You’re really worried about not being, like,” Charlie fishes around in his brain for the big word he heard a couple days ago. “Desirable?”

Mac nods.

“Dude, look at you, you still have such strong arms,” Charlie says, grinning. Mac, still staring right at him, feels his heart begin to beat and his cheeks to go pink at the compliment. “I’m sure, like, anyone would be, uh, into that.” Mac swallows thickly, cause this combined with the eye contact is doing bizarre things to his brain. “And you’ve always had such a nice beard, even when you didn’t try to do much with it, and,” Charlie’s eyes dart downwards to his lips, so quickly Mac isn’t even sure he sees it. “I think it looks better than ever now?” Charlie, saying these things. He never would have even imagined it.

Oh, fuck. How is Mac hard right now? How is that possible? He freezes, mentally willing it down, but it’s difficult when Charlie’s kaleidoscopic green eyes are trained right on his, with a soft and curious expression.

And then Charlie glances at his bulge, and oh, fuck, oh no. He fully expects him to call him out, or make fun of him, or just get up and leave him in his miserable, pathetic state, but Charlie just stares at it for a second, and then looks right at Mac, with wide, almost doe-y eyes. Mac’s breath catches in his throat.

And then Charlie places his other hand on his other leg, and he’s rotated to face Mac, and suddenly he’s on his knees sliding his hands ever so slowly up Mac’s thighs. “And I love your eyes, dude,” Charlie breathes. “They’re so brown. They make me feel warm.” Mac can’t bring himself to stop Charlie’s hands on their trajectory up his body. It feels so good to be touched.

Charlie’s almost laying on top of him now, hands at the tops of his thighs just below his hips. “Sometimes I think about you leaving beard burn on me,” he says quietly, and Mac whines. “And your thighs are so,” Charlie swallows. “They look good, Mac. You look good.” They’re still trapped in this intimate eye contact, wholly unable to look away, until Charlie’s eyes dart to Mac’s erection. He lowers his head, and this is already so, so hot, Mac whines, “Please,” and as Charlie gently caresses his bulge, Mac inhales sharply.

Charlie unbuttons his jeans and mouths against Mac’s dick, trapped in the fabric of his underwear. “Sometimes, Mac,” Charlie says quietly, and Mac shivers, “Sometimes I think this might be the hottest I’ve ever seen you,” and he pulls down Mac’s underwear and takes him into his mouth.

Mac could swear he has a concussion from how hard his head thumps against the armrest of the couch, and he immediately moans, “Charlie,” because it’s been way too long and Charlie, though inexperienced, is being very, very enthusiastic. Mac isn’t particularly big, and Charlie finds that it’s much, much easier for him this way. Mac immediately threads his hands through Charlie’s hair.

Charlie pulls off just a little and swirls his tongue around the head of Mac’s dick, and Mac groans, “Fuck,” under his breath. Charlie takes him a little deeper, a little deeper, until the head bumps against the back of his throat, and Mac’s back arches a little, and he unconsciously thrusts a little more into Mac’s mouth. Charlie’s having trouble breathing a little at this point. He makes a choked noise around Mac, and Mac whines, “Fuck, that’s so hot, dude.” Charlie begins to tear up a little at the praise. Mac is still grasping at his hair, but gently, not trying to direct him, Charlie understands, just trying to keep himself anchored.

Mac could use an anchor right now.

Charlie’s own erection, meanwhile, is pressing against the couch, and he begins to rut there, just a little, just to relieve some of the burning need. Mac’s little pants and breaths are so hot, his hands in Charlie’s hair are so good, and Charlie feels like he’s going to just die here.

He continues moving his mouth up and down the shaft, taking him deeper and then sliding back, swirling his tongue around and maintaining the suction as much as he can, and Mac’s neck is still arched, and he’s moaning. “Oh, fuck, Charlie, fuck, dude, you’re so good, please.” Charlie can feel his thighs shaking.

Mac moans, “Oh my god, Charlie, I’m gonna, ah.” His hips stutter a little, and Mac, right on the edge, looks down at Charlie’s face, tears at the corners of his eyes, wide eyes looking right into his with undisguised adoration and need, and then Mac bucks his hips and he’s coming into Charlie’s mouth, maybe the most intense orgasm of his life, shaking and maybe momentarily leaving the planet.

Mac comes back to himself in a moment and looks down to see Charlie, still staring at him with an open mouth- oh, God, his lips are so red and wet, too, it’s so pretty. “Charlie,” Mac breathes.  
Mac sits up and pulls Charlie’s face to his, and kisses him passionately, slow and deep, trying his best to communicate a thank you, until he feels Charlie shift against him a little and whine. Mac remembers abruptly that he’s still hard.

“Charlie,” he says again, and Charlie was already straddling him but now one of Mac’s thighs is in between his legs and he begins to rut against it.

Mac continues to kiss him, very dirty, slow and deep, encouraging him to keep rolling his hips, and Charlie already looks so lost, so gone. “Mac,” he whines as Mac kisses his neck.

“Yeah, Charlie.”

“Can I come for you like this, Mac, please.” He’s still rolling his hips and now shamelessly fucking Mac’s thigh with his hips, recapturing Mac’s mouth with his and moaning into him, relishing the feel of his body and being held in his arms. His movements are slowing, getting more sloppy, now, eyes rolling back in his head, and all it takes is Mac moaning, “Charlie, please,” and he comes in his jeans moaning into Mac’s mouth, collapsing on Mac when the waves of his orgasm are through wracking his body.

Mac presses his lips into Charlie’s collarbone, feeling too overwhelmed to speak.

“Did you really mean it,” he mumbles into Charlie’s skin, tears coming to the corners of his eyes, “everything you said?”

“Mhm,” Charlie says back quietly, like it’s no big deal. “I wanted you just like this for so long.”

Mac’s hands are holding Charlie by the hips now, the touch still sending warm tingles throughout Charlie’s body. “Why are you so good to me, dude?”

“You deserve love, Mac,” Charlie whispers. “I love the way you look. You don’t have to change, buddy. Not for me and not for Dennis.”

If Charlie feels a few teardrops against his shirt, he has the decency not to say anything.

A few weeks later, when Dennis offers Mac “size pills” to fix the way he looks, Mac takes them without hesitation.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhhh plz forgive if the smut seemed awkward I just wanted mac to feel loved and desirable tbh


End file.
